


i will follow you into the dark

by crooked



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-31
Updated: 2013-08-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 05:57:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/949446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crooked/pseuds/crooked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire sings the things he can't bring himself to say, not knowing that Enjolras is listening anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i will follow you into the dark

**Author's Note:**

> both [semenjolras](http://semenjolras.tumblr.com/post/59893355263/modern-reincarnation-au-grantaire-singing-the) & [George Blagden](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w30Irt3m_jU) get the credit for this one.

It's just one of Those Days, and Grantaire hates Those Days. The days when he can't get his mind off Enjolras, knowing that Enjolras isn't likely to be sparing him a single thought. At least not a positive one. And it isn't as if Grantaire hadn't seen him here at the meeting not even twenty minutes ago, but there had been yet another argument and this is almost always the aftermath. He tries distracting himself with his sketchbook, but his hand betrays him by etching out the lines of a face he's long since committed to memory so he abandons that.

That's when he picks up his guitar.

Grantaire had brought it with him to the meeting simply because he hadn't time to drop it off at home first. Sitting in the empty cafe, though, his friends all dispersed and gone until the next time, he's glad he has it with him. He picks idly at the strings, no melody in mind but just listening to the chords to soothe himself. It's a nameless tune he strums at first and maybe this is actually going to work. But then his mind is soon drifting to thoughts of blues eyes blazing with passion but never for him and Grantaire just gives up and gives himself over to it. Steer into the skid, right?

The song is one he's sung before, one that makes him think of Enjolras for reasons he doesn't want to analyze too deeply. It fills him with melancholy every time he hears it, and sometimes he has to turn it off or skip to the next song because it's too much. But on a day like today, a day when he's wishing for even one second, one brilliant second of Enjolras' love, it comes to mind first and he doesn't bother trying to stop it.

Grantaire hunches over his guitar, fingers placed on the fret, and he begins to play. He stays true to the original through the first verse and chorus, but then words suddenly come to him, seemingly out of the depths of his soul, and Grantaire changes the lyrics.

" _In revolutionary school, as vicious as Musain rule, I got my feelings bruised_ ," he sings, lifting his eyes to the ceiling and briefly pressing his lips together in a grimace because that's the understatement of a century, " _by the leader in red. And I propped the bar as he told me, 'R, you're good for nothing, fool', and I heard every word that he said..._ "

He sings another two choruses but stops there. Grantaire knows if he goes on, he'll just find a way to make it even more painful, to sing more verses about Enjolras and the ways he'll never love him and how he disdains him so. He plucks the final note and smiles at nothing and no one, though he doesn't feel any joy at all. It's more of a self-deprecating, resigned smile, a message to himself that _R, you fool, maybe you really are good for nothing_.

Grantaire zips his guitar back into its case and gathers up his belongings, slinging the instrument onto his back and jamming a beanie onto his head. He lifts his hand in farewell to the well-known face behind the counter and then ventures out into the city.

\-----

Enjolras steps out of the shadows the moment the door shuts behind Grantaire. He watches him as he strides past the front window of the cafe, until he disappears from sight, then his eyes shift to the seat he'd occupied moments before. Enjolras walks over and sits in the same place, floored.

He'd left his jacket behind after the meeting, realizing it once he'd gotten halfway home. Enjolras told Combeferre he'd meet him at their apartment later and turned back to retrieve it. He hadn't expected to find anyone still there, least of all Grantaire. And when he'd walked into the cafe, having entered through the backdoor and therefore behind Grantaire, Enjolras had been struck immobile by the scene he'd intruded upon.

Grantaire's voice was as unexpected as his presence there. Enjolras had seen him with his guitar on occasion, heard him plucking notes here and there, but he'd had no idea he could sing like that. Angelic choirs would be envious. But that wasn't the half of it. When he realized that Grantaire was singing about him, Enjolras felt something twist inside him. The words weren't sweet and romantic but laden with a pain that he had thoughtlessly inflicted upon him. And yet he still sang of following Enjolras into the dark, still began the song with the tender words 'love of mine'.

He'd not wanted to interrupt R during the song, hadn't been able to even move or breathe, and after it felt like too much of an invasion of what Grantaire had clearly thought was a private moment. But Enjolras can't just do nothing. Grantaire _cares_. He cares about things and life and love and he cares about Enjolras, and that shatters every opinion he's ever formed of him up until now.

Enjolras' feet seem to reach the conclusion before his brain does, and he's darting out the door before he realizes just what he's doing. He knows where Grantaire lives, assumes that's where he's headed since the direction he'd walked in indicated as much. He's almost running along the sidewalks, mumbling apologies to people he nearly bowls over, eyes scanning ahead.

He spots the green beanie after a while, just blocks from Grantaire's building. Enjolras is still several feet away when he calls out. "R!"

Grantaire stops and turns around and Enjolras isn't sure what the expression he's wearing conveys, but he jogs the last few feet to him. He's a little breathless from the chase, and now that he's caught up to him, Enjolras comes up blank. "Uh, I... I just..." He is rarely at a loss for words but he can't string together a coherent thought to save his life.

So Enjolras goes for broke. He kisses Grantaire, right there in front of the world, because there's nothing else he can do. Grantaire makes a strangled noise of surprise, pulling back before the kiss is really over, his eyes wide. Enjolras' cheeks are flushed and he can't quite meet Grantaire's eyes. "You're not good for nothing, R," he says at last, quietly, and he's never felt more exposed in all his life.

Grantaire's silence forces Enjolras to look up and there's no mistaking the expression on his face now. It's a mixture of awe and disbelief but Enjolras sees an undercurrent of unmistakable happiness there. He exhales and reaches out to lace his fingers with Grantaire's, noticing the way he seems hesitant to take Enjolras' hand but then quickly gives a firm squeeze and holds on as if he's afraid to let go.

There is so much to say but neither speaks a word as Grantaire takes the lead and draws Enjolras in the direction of his apartment. Enjolras looks down at their entwined hands and the beautifully-sung words come rushing back to him: _just our hands clasped so tight, waiting for the hint of a spark_.

Enjolras ducks his head and smiles softly. _If this isn't a spark_ , he thinks, _I don't know what is_.


End file.
